As Lara’s six-year-old son calls her in the middle of the day, saying that he’s afraid, she races home, only to find their babysitter unconscious and her past clawing its way back. When panic rises, Lara must confront the one memory she’s tried to bury: the day she and Ben found his father dead.

At 2:25 PM on a normal Friday, I got a call from my six-year-old son, Ben. His voice was a whisper: “Mommy… I’m afraid.”

My name is Lara, 30, a single mom trying to keep it all together, full-time job, full-time chaos, like I’m carrying a tray of glass that’s always on the verge of tipping.

My son Ben means everything to me—he’s the heart of my world. He doesn’t just experience his own emotions; he seems to soak up the feelings of everyone around him. He’s tender, curious, and the kind of child who’d stuff worms into his pockets just so they wouldn’t be lonely in the rain.

Ruby, our 21-year-old babysitter, has a gentle presence and a calming way about her that immediately put Ben at ease.

She became woven into our daily life. With Ben, she was thoughtful, attentive, and deeply kind. She even kept track of his latest dinosaur obsession—currently, it’s Allosaurus.
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Ruby was the person I relied on most. Whenever work pulled me away, she was my first call. I trusted her completely.

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Until Friday. No Caller ID. A missed call. Then another.
While I was reaching for my coffee when my phone lit up again, something made me answer.

“Mommy?” Ben’s voice was so faint I barely caught it.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered. His voice cracked in the middle like something had split inside him.

“Where’s Ruby, baby? What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know… she was standing, and then… she wasn’t.”

I put the call on speaker. My heart plummeted and my hands shook.

“What do you mean? Is she hurt?”

“I think so. She fell. I tried to help but she won’t wake up.”

Oh, good Lord.

“Where are you right now, baby?”

“I’m hiding in the closet. I didn’t know what else to do. The glass of water spilled from her hand, and she didn’t move. Her eyes were open, but not like normal.”

“Ben, stay where you are. I’m coming right now, okay? You’re not alone. Just hold on.”

I didn’t tell my boss. I just grabbed my bag and ran. I drove like I could bend time if I pushed the gas hard enough.

I burst through the front door.

“Ben?! It’s Mommy!”

I tried again, louder, completely forgetting that he’d said he was in a closet. Panic crawled up my throat.

Then I heard it. Faint. Croaking.

“In the closet…”

I found him curled up in the hallway closet, hugging his stuffed dinosaur. His knees were pulled to his chest. His little fingers trembled. I dropped to the floor and wrapped him in my arms.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said, voice muffled in my shoulder. “I tried to help her.”